Thursday night, January 14th; we gathered at our church with nearly 100 of our amazing friends and family members to remember Jaiden. We showed a video collage of Jaiden's life, along with a second video collage of all that we have done in the past 2 years in her memory and honor. I read an article that I wrote for a friends website (www.southshorewoman.com) on the topic of REMEMBERING; it was titled "Missing ~ Before and After."
I also read a poem that I had written to Jaiden. The night was very emotional, yet it warmed my heart to share our memories with so many people that loved and still love Jaiden. Thank you for being a part of her life and ours...
MISSING… Before & After
By: Holleigh Ciardelli Tlapa
I have given birth to four children; all born naturally and underwater. As a writer and a lover of words, it was the one experience I could not truly describe. My best assessment was that it was like being turned inside out; yet at the end of the process, all the pain immediately dissipates. You are left in a deep state of awe that is filled with wonderment, intense joy and lasting ecstasy. The pain is unbearable while it is happening; but the reward was one that would last forever; or so I naively thought.
Two years ago my life was forever shattered. On a fateful winter day, I learned that there was another indescribable and incomprehensible event that would haunt me for all eternity; with no fairy tale ending. Five days before Christmas in 2007, my beloved 8-year old daughter Jaiden was fatally injured in an accident at our home.
The concept of “missing” was not one I had spent a lot of time dwelling on. I led what most would deem a rather charmed life. As the youngest of four children, the closest person I had ever lost was my Grandmother. She was 89 years old at the time of her death. She had lived a long and prosperous life, surrounded by her children, grand-children and great grand-children. Although I was deeply affected by her loss; I felt confident that it was her time, and one day, we would be reunited. It was the natural order of the world, and I accepted that.
Nothing on this earth could have ever prepared me for losing a child. You become an orphan when your parents die; and a widow when your spouse dies. Yet there is no word for losing a child; it is simply that excruciating, that it has no name.
Jaiden was a vibrant and loving soul. She was truly so beautiful that my Dad used to fear someone would snatch her away from us all. Platinum blond hair and brilliant blue eyes were just part of the packaging though; her real beauty was on the inside. She was the star that shone so brightly; it burned out faster than the others. Yet her eternal light will be shining intensely long after we have all gone. Of this much, I am certain.
The early days were a blur of burning tears, shock and denial. Jaiden did not die immediately. She was rushed to Children’s Hospital under the scrutiny of a team of doctors. The specialists we learned to dread the most were the neurologists; or the bearers of unbearable news, as they came to be known. For the first several days we were all so hopeful that Jaiden would become the Christmas miracle. Thousands of people across the Globe learned of her plight through a prayer website. We received hundreds of cards, emails and inspirational posts. We believed the love all around us would create a wall of protection; shielding Jaiden from the unthinkable.
Yet as the hours turned into days, and the days into weeks; we saw Jaiden begin to deteriorate rather than recover. We watched our strong little athlete withering away. Her beautiful blue eyes had finally opened; but to our horror they were vacant and lifeless. In the midst of all the prayers, positive energy and multitude of specialists; deep in the dark bowels of our fragile hearts; a sinking reality began to take shape.
For 25 days we sat vigil by her side. I slept in her bed each night, caressing her in my arms and struggling to breathe in her scent. But it was not her signature stinky feet that I inhaled; rather the antiseptic and medicinal smell of a hospital.
Each morning I would wash her face, apply lotion to her hands, and paint her nails and toes. We read her favorite books to her, played her music and held chocolate to her parched lips; fervently praying that the taste might awaken her. We washed her hair and dressed her in her own pajamas. We plastered her walls with photos, cards and messages of love. We anointed her with holy water, had her blessed by a Catholic Priest, a Mormon Elder and our own Methodist Pastor. We held a constant vigil by her side; naively thinking that perhaps we could will her back to us.
On January 14th, 2008, our precious and irreplaceable daughter lost her battle. My husband and I both cradled her as she took her last breath, assuring her it was OK to go now. Telling her we would see her again. Declaring our unending love, and our deep gratitude; that she had chosen us to be her parents.
We dressed her in the outfit she had chosen to wear at Christmas. We invited our parents and our living children into see her one last time. We took photographs that to this day haunt me when I even contemplate looking at them. We put her hair in a long, beautiful braid. Then I cut it off and placed it in a box. The box sits at the top of my closet. I am afraid to open it, afraid to look inside. But perhaps one day I will find the courage…
So the concept of missing was virtually unknown to me two years ago. Now it is in integral part of who I am. I wake up each morning missing my Jaiden. As I watch her little sister board the bus alone, I am reminded of how they should be together. As I watch her older sister learn to drive; I must face the fact that Jaiden will never drive. She will never have a first date, a first love, a first baby.
I cry alone into my coffee. I cry at the supermarket when I walk by her favorite foods. I cry when I go into her school to visit her sister. I cry when I set the table for five people instead of six. I cry when one of the children sets a sixth plate for Jaiden and places her picture on it. I cry when I think about the fact that it has been almost two years since I’ve seen her smile.
I no longer listen to music. I have become a radio talk show addict instead. I never know what song might set me off. I cannot bear to listen to what I used to love; it reminds me of how nothing will ever be the same.
Our walls are adorned with her photographs and artwork. Yet I cannot bring myself to watch the video tapes of her, although I am grateful we have so many. It makes me sad to know that there are no new ones being made. The camera sits idle in my drawer. I miss the person I used to be.
I miss the life we used to have. It will always be before and after. I spend hours upon hours dreaming about a do-over. Like the song by Bread says… “I would give Everything I own; Just to have you… back again.”
Some days I think I have reached a plateau, the end of my rope. I cannot breath and in my heart I simply know that I cannot go on any longer without Jaiden. Yet another day comes to pass. Another load of laundry gets done. Another meal gets consumed. Another child needs me. And here I am, still trudging along.
I have vowed to give my living children the opportunity to be the person that Jaiden was. We were all part of that foundation. We were a family, united by love and compassion. We created a safe and beautiful place for Jaiden to flourish; and oh how she did. It is my destiny and responsibility to provide that same foundation for her siblings; even if it is excruciating to go on without her. I have to hold onto my belief, that one day; we will be reunited. Although to me it is an eternity away; it is only a moment to her. I imagine her running through a field of wild roses. The sun is lighting her precious smile and she is so caught up in the absolute joy of the moment. When she finally turns to look back at me; I will already be there.
And so the circle of life goes on. In just a couple of weeks, I will undergo that one event I used to believe was the only indescribable experience on earth. I will give birth to a new baby. We don’t know if it will be a boy or a girl; we decided it might be too painful knowing either way. But I do know, that at the very moment this child enters the world, I will be filled with a deep awe and a burning love. This time around there will also be a sprinkle of lasting pain and sorrow. I will grieve for the fact that this new baby will never spend a moment on earth with her beautiful and loving sister Jaiden. I vow to make certain that he or she will know all about her though; and carry a piece of her inside. Just like I do; forever in my heart.
And my Poem to Jaiden...
Jaiden…
The void of you engulfs me
A raging storm of sorrow-
Never ending; always there.
Reality is a blanket of suffocation
Where Have You Gone?
The unanswerable question…
Sleep promises release~
Only it comes in troubled waves
Dreams of you too scattered across the vast ocean.
Yearning dissolves into longing
Passing seconds, moments, days…
Has it REALLY been two years?
I stopped believing you might come back.
Now I grasp onto each account of afterlife
Like an anchor to my sanity.
I have to believe
In something I cannot touch:
The peace, the light, the tranquil understanding:
Is that what you exchanged my love for?
My faith quivers alone in this storm
Breathless in my grief;
The aftermath of losing you.
The most precious gift is fleeting-
A shared memory,
An unseen photo,
A gentle reminder that another longs for you as well.
You will make no new memories
No new photos
No new hopes and dreams; so we make them now for you.
Permanent imprints upon our lives…
Ink on skin,
You name carved on endless shores.
A granite stone with your photo,
A heart shaped garden built of love.
Each cake that I decorate.
Balloons sent to you in Heaven.
Messages of never ending love.
An engraved bench for you in the courtyard,
Another in our garden.
A flowering tree for you in front of Heron pond,
A plaque for you in the Jacques Library;
Your handprints on our wall,
A piece of you around my neck.
And we carry you still…
To every milestone that we pass.
But you are not gone Jaiden~
You have simply passed ahead of us;
Just barely out of reach.
Running thru a field of fragrant wildflowers
Your beauty glistening in the sunshine
Radiance all around you.
You are so completely blissful-
Lightness lifts you
Your hair is blowing in the warmth of the gentle breeze
Just like that photo of you running across our yard with Geena right behind you.
Only it is me that is chasing after you
Struggling to catch you;
When I simply need to realize
YOU ARE NOT RUNNING AWAY;
You are simply running ahead.
My tears are human
Sadness bred from being left behind.
You don’t even notice I am not with you yet.
You possess that tranquil knowledge now:
That by the time you turn around and catch your breath;
I will already be there.
XO~ Your Mom FOREVER
The next morning I met with two wonderful friends... Monica, who is a incredible facepainting artist here in Milford NH, and Jacqueline, who is an amazing photographer (sample her powerful images). Monica painted a beautiful angel on my pregnant belly; and Jacqueline captured the images. I wanted to share one of my favorites...
